


9 to 5

by texastough



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: 1950s AU, F/M, Irish Mobster Percival Graves, M/M, No Magic AU, queenie is in this a lot because i love her, using the term ‘a homosexual’ for gay men throughout
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:34:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 16,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25762201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/texastough/pseuds/texastough
Summary: Credence Barebone, recently escaped from a militant religious group in New England, finds himself in the Goldstein household, interviewing for a job with Percival Graves. New York’s least eligible bachelor and a ruthless business man.
Relationships: Credence Barebone/Original Percival Graves, Queenie Goldstein/Jacob Kowalski, Tina Goldstein/Newt Scamander
Comments: 16
Kudos: 52





	1. You’re Hired

**Author's Note:**

> trigger warnings:  
> vague mentions of abuse
> 
> i am a gay man, all use of the f slur in this work is my reclamation of the slur

Credence practically has a panic attack on his elevator trip to the office of Percival Graves. 

He suddenly realizes he’s never been in an elevator and he’d much rather be huffing his way up the stairs.

Far too late now. 

He clutches the attaché he borrowed from Newt.

He put on his best clothes. 

If you told Credence Barebone six months ago he’d be living with the nicest Jewish couple in Manhattan, interviewing for a secretary-

Not _secretary_ , no, Jacob called it an assistant.

Secretaries are women.

Attractive young women, Queenie said. 

Anyway, if you told him all that six months ago, he’d probably faint on the spot. 

Secretary. 

What’s the matter with being a male secretary?

It’s 1956.

Women can vote, every household has a television, and Credence Barebone should be able to be a secretary. 

He’s young. 

But he hardly finds himself attractive.

He’s tall, and lanky. 

Queenie been feeding him well. 

He’s not as skinny as he was six months ago. 

He sighs, his breath shaking.

He walks to the desk of the receptionist. 

An attractive young woman.

She smokes a cigarette. 

The plate on her desk says:

** Leta Lestrange - Receptionist **

“Hello.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“Yes, with Mr. Graves. For two.”

“Name?”

“Credence Barebone.” 

She smiles.

“Tina sent you, didn’t she?” 

He nods.

“Percy’ll like you. Especially that _haircut_.” 

If you had told Credence six months ago that someone would like him, especially his hair, he would faint on the spot. 

Credence steps into the office.

He stands awkwardly.

“Leta, would you take a message from Ms. Piquery, please?”

“Of course.”

“You’re an angel.” 

He storms in. 

He looks at Credence. 

“Clarence, right?” 

“Credence, sir. Credence Barebone.” 

“ _Credence_ ,” he says as though it was glaringly obvious.

“Yes, sir.” 

“Credence, Credence, Credence,” he repeats, tapping his knuckle to his forehead. “Okay, got it.”

He looks at Credence and his brow furrows.

He smiles. 

“Funny haircut. Funny… everything, actually. Sit down.”

Credence sits awkwardly in a chair. 

The plate on his desk says:

** Percival Graves - CEO **

The man in front of him has his tie hanging around his neck, untied.

His shirt is unbuttoned to the third button.

His sleeves are rolled up.

He has a cigarette in one hand. 

Credence swallows nervously. 

“Goldstein sent you, yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Percival Graves. Everyone calls me Percy.”

Credence thinks he sounds like one of the actors on the radio shows Queenie likes. 

They shake hands. 

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Graves.”

“Right… did she tell you what you’re doing?”

“She said you needed an assistant.”

“I do. Very badly. Are you any good with a typewriter?”

“Yes, very good. Miss Queenie taught me how to use one.” 

“Great. How about a rotary phone?” 

“Yes, sir. Well, I’m learning, sir.” 

“You’ll be perfect for this job, Credence.”

He takes a drag off his cigarette and ashes it into a glass tray on his desk.

“I know you’re thinking, ‘why’s this guy need an assistant when he’s got a perfectly good, extremely competent receptionist’? Well, God bless Leta Lestrange, ten times over. But I have some seriously sensitive documents I need handled with _seriously_ sensitive care. Goldstein says you’re the man for the job.” 

Six months ago he was never the man for the job. Any job. Ever. 

He feels like fainting right now. 

“Yes, sir. I was helping, um, Newt Scamander with some of the medical records for the New York Zoo.”

“Scamander… Tina’s boyfriend?”

Credence nods.

“Weird guy. Nice, though.” 

Credence comes home to the Goldstein apartment.

“Hi, honey!” Queenie calls. 

He smiles weakley.

She smiles at him. 

“How’d it go?”

“Good. I start on Monday.”

“Great!”

He looks at his feet, moving one nervously. 

“Miss Queenie?”

“Yes, honey?”

She sees him looking at the ground.

He’s tall. He always tries to make himself look smaller. He hunches over, he shrinks. He looks down. 

“Could I have a hug? Please.”

“Oh, sure.”

She hugs him.

He puts his head on her shoulder. 

He feels the lump in his throat, like he might cry.

Queenie pulls away.

“Good?”

He nods.

“Okay. You can put your regular clothes on, honey. And you can wash up for dinner, when you have time.” 

“Okay. Thank you.”

“Credence?”

He turns back.

“I’m really proud of you.” 

His cheeks heat.

“Thank you.” 

Jacob comes home from work.

Credence can hear it.

He sits on his bed and reads.

“Hey, Credence,” Jacob calls.

“Hello,” Credence responds. 

He knocks on the door.

“Oh, come in.”

Jacob smiles.

He’s holding something.

“Hey, kid. I stopped by the second-hand store. Thought you might like this,” he says.

He holds out a book to Credence.

“Ancient Egypt?”

“You’ve read that book about Stonehenge a million times, thought you’d like it. There’s color pictures in it, too.” 

“Really? You didn’t have to.” 

“Hey, no sweat.”

“Thank you very much.”

“You’re welcome, kid.” 

Tina and Newt come over for dinner. 

Newt tells everyone about the snake at the zoo who nearly nipped him.

Everyone is not as amused as he is.

Tina talks about work like it’s prison.

Queenie perks up. 

“Oh, Credence got a job!”

“That’s great, Credence,” Tina says.

“Wonderful, yes indeed,” Newt agrees. “Though this puts me at the loss of my veterinary helper… perhaps I need to find another bright young man in the New York Zoo.” 

“Thank you.”

Credence’s ears glow red.

He’s not used to so much praise. 

“So Percy gave him the job?”

“Yep. Said Credence would be perfect!” 

“Percy? Percy Graves?” Newt asks.

Credence nods.

“My, _my_. Moving up, aren’t we?”

“What’s that mean?”

“He’s just playing, Credence.”

“Well, he’s probably one of the richest businessmen in Manhattan.” 

He sits in bed with his lamp on.

“Goodnight, Credence,” Queenie says.

“Goodnight, Miss Queenie.” 

Six months ago.

Six months ago Credence was stuck in the sticks with his mother.

His adoptive mother, Mary Lou Barebone. 

A zealot who had an affinity for collecting broken children, glueing them back together and then breaking them.

In her own, _special_ way. 

He used to hand out pamphlets on the weekends.

The second coming of Christ, end times, repent.

The usual rhetoric. 

Sometimes people would give him money. Not understanding he was trying to save their souls, not the other way around. 

Credence would pocket the money anyway. Hide it in his socks, in his shoes. 

Maybe save it for a rainy day.

And on a particularly rainy day-

Or night, rather-

He put his things in a case and took an overnight bus to New York.

He met up with a very strange British veterinarian at the New York Zoo. They’d met on an overnight bus four months prior. 

A man, who, to Credence, also liked collecting broken things. But was more inclined to fix them.

Dr. Newt Scamander. 

Then Tina Goldstein. 

Newt’s girlfriend. 

A woman who talked so quickly and furiously, Credence felt his head was spinning.

He liked it.

It was like when there were no games to play, so he and Chastity would spin around in circles until they got dizzy.

But a nice kind of dizzy.

A very nice kind. 

He does miss Chastity sometimes. 

He stayed with Tina and Newt for a short while.

He liked helping Newt take care of all the little creatures in their apartment. 

And Tina had a cat he liked. A little calico who’d sit in his lap. 

Then he moved in with Queenie Goldstein and her husband, Jacob Kowalski. 

She was his Mother Mary. 

Every time he said this she laughed a sweet laugh reminded him she was Jewish.

He kindly reminded her that Mary (Miriam), mother of Jesus, was Jewish too. 

Saint Queenie. 

The woman from Heaven. 

Queenie had done lots of things in her life.

‘Tinker, tailor, soldier, sailor,‘ she would always sing, joking.

She’d been a hairstylist and a schoolteacher. 

She was now trying her hand at: Queenie ( _ever the beacon of female empowerment, good on her for keeping her maiden name_ ) Goldstein, five-star housewife. 

Among all this, she did something Newt and Tina did not.

It took him a while to notice. 

Queenie was cautious around Credence. Ever so cautious. 

Queenie never told him to do something.

She would say ‘if you have time’. 

‘If you feel like it’.

‘Whenever you wanna’. 

Queenie always asked to touch him.

He has good days.

Good days where he loves when she musses his hair or pats his shoulder.

Even great days where he can relish in a kiss on the cheek that makes his face go red. 

But he also has _very_ bad days, where’d he’d like to crawl into the wall and have someone brick and mortar him in there. Just stay in that drywall until he turned into dust and bones. 

Jacob has always been very nice.

Queenie’s husband. A baker. 

A bit too touchy at the start.

A hand on Credence’s shoulder, which would make him flinch. A pat to Credence’s back, which would nearly send him into a panic. 

Credence really liked Jacob. It was nice not to be treated like he was made of glass, sometimes. 

Six months ago, he couldn’t have even stood to have someone like Queenie look at him.

But now, he’s practically a Goldstein.

Credence never thought, not in a million years, he’d have an office job. 

He thought he’d start to help with the bakery. He’d been getting really good at making muffins.

He reaches to turn off his light and stops.

He thinks to himself.

_ What is it that Percival Graves does, exactly? _


	2. A Homosexual

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Credence eavesdrops on Queenie and Jacob

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warnings:  
> mentions of abuse, homophobia, possible emetophobia trigger

Credence wakes up from a nightmare and hugs his knees to his chest. 

He breathes heavily. 

He hears talking.

He presses his ear to the wall.

It’s Queenie and Jacob.

“You’ve heard the rumors, right?”

“Everyone has.” 

“Do you think they’re true?”

She sighs.

“ _Baby_.” 

“I don’t think I care, Jacob. What does it matter if Percy’s… a little different?”

“A little… they think he’s a _homosexual_ , Queenie.” 

Her voice drops so low Credence can only hear his name.

“No,” Jacob says.

“I think so… the way he talks about Newt… the way he looks at the mailman. He can’t stand having men touch him, honey.”

“I know, but that might just be all that… y’know, he got hit.”

“But he lets me touch him. Tina, too. And when I took him to the doctor. The nurse was fine, but he’d just flinch every time the doctor touched him. I mean, jeez, honey, he nearly threw up when I suggested he go to the barber.”

Credence hears them say goodnight and decides he should too.

So, Percival Graves.   


Suspected homosexual. 

And his new boss.

_Brilliant_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jacob is NOT homophobic don’t worry, he’s just worried about Credence


	3. Going to Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Credence goes to work. Talks with Mr. Graves. Has a minor anxiety attack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warnings:  
> disordered eating, scars from abuse, internalize homophobia

Queenie watches Credence’s curious little morning routine.

He takes one piece of bread and cuts it in half. He makes a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with the two halves.

“Credence, you know you can use two pieces of bread for a sandwich.”

“Oh, I’m fine, thank you,” he says, smiling. “I’m just not that hungry.” 

He washes the plate he used. He gets a glass from the cupboard. He pours himself half a glass of orange juice.

“You can have more orange juice too, sweetie.” 

“But… then there won’t be enough left for you and Jacob.”

“It’s a brand new carton, honey. There’d be plenty.” 

“No… I’m alright. Thank you, Miss Queenie.” 

He drinks his juice and cleans out his cup.

“When is work?”

“At nine.”

She looks at the clock. It’s seven thirty-seven. 

“You’re up early.”

“Is that bad?”

“No, not at all. You have lots of time to get dressed. You could even walk to work.”

“I might… the subway scares me.” 

He rubs his palms together nervously. 

“Miss Queenie?”

“Yes?”

“I think, uh… I think I’d like a haircut, please.” 

“Oh, really?”

“Yes.”

“Why’s that?”

“W-well… um… the receptionist… s-she was very nice. And Mr. Graves, they both said it was um… _funny_.”

“Oh. Did that hurt your feelings?”

“No, no. I think it’s… funny. I think I should have a regular haircut. For someone my age.”

“Well, it’s real short as it is, sweetie… I could do something about the bangs, I suppose. Make it less… bowl-y.” 

“Please?”

“Sure. We have time. You wanna do it now?”

“Uh… wh-when I get home… please…”

“Okay.” 

Percival Graves inherited his company from his father.

A company that makes code-locked safes.

And has a goddamn monopoly on it too.

But Graves couldn’t care less about code-locked safes and the earnings for the last quarter.

Percival Graves is involved in organized crime.

But more on that later.

He watches the lanky, awkward man sitting at the desk outside his office.

He files things, very meticulous.

He stays late.

Even Leta’s gone home before Credence does.

“Credence?”

“Yes, sir?”

“It’s nearly five.”

“Oh… I didn’t know how long I was supposed to be here… to be honest, sir.”

“That’s fine. Nine to five, usually.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Come into my office. Let’s talk.”

Credence closes his files and walks to Graves’ office. 

“Want a drink?”

“No thank you, sir. Um… I don’t drink.”

“Oh, yes. Tina told me… a little bit. About where you were before you came to New York.”

“Oh.”

Credence looks at his hands.

Graves leans against his desk.

“ _Jesus_ ,” Graves whispers.

“Sorry?”

“Your hands. What happened?”

“Oh… a-an accident. With the stove.” 

“Could I see your hand, Credence?”

“Um… uh…”

“Please?”

Credence offers his hand, shivering.

Graves holds it. 

“ _Jesus_ ,” he mutters again. 

He examines the hand. 

“These don’t look like burns…” 

He runs his thumb over the scars.

Credence quickly takes his hand back.

“I-I think I need to go home, sir.” 

“Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow then, Credence.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shit is getting gay ladies and bottoms


	4. A Haircut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Credence gets a haircut and has a nice talk with Queenie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warnings:  
> mentions of homophobia, mentions of abuse, internalized homophobia

He rushes home, gasping for breath in the quiet stairwell.

Queenie was right.

He can’t _stand_ men touching him.

He doesn’t know why. No man’s ever hurt him. 

But he wanted Graves to touch his hand.

He liked it. 

Graves had very rough hands. 

His own have been softening, he thinks.

He wonders how his hands feel to other people. 

He steps inside the apartment.

Queenie’s making dinner.

“Hi, sweetie.”

“Hello Miss Queenie.” 

“Jacob’s got a little business, so it’s just you and me for dinner.”

She looks at him.

He’s shaking.

“Jeez, honey. You see a ghost?” 

“I went up the stairs too fast.”

“Okay. Well, if you want, I can give you a haircut, while this roast is in the oven.”

“Yes please.” 

He sits in a chair in the living room. 

Queenie has an old smock from when she did hairstyling.

“Sorry, it’s kinda girly. It’s all I have.”

“That’s fine.”

“Credence?”

She leans down.

“Yes?”

“I’m gonna have to touch you all over your head, maybe your face too. Is that okay?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” 

Friendly touch is always exhilarating to Credence.

He likes when Newt would get a bit too close, leaning, showing him a chameleon or a baby bird. 

Or Jacob would put his hand’s on Credence’s shoulders, looking at the dough he was kneeding.

Something about Queenie.

Maybe it’s how motherly she is. 

Maybe it’s her manicured nails. 

Maybe it’s the way she hums when she cuts his hair. 

His eyes close.

He likes the metallic snips and snaps of the scissors.

The feeling of his head getting… well… lighter, he supposes. 

“Okay. We gotta wash it over the sink.”

He stands and they move the chair.

He sits and she lets the water run until its warm.

She pours some on his head.

“Is it good? Not too hot?”

“Yes it’s good, thank you.” 

She pumps shampoo into her hand and starts to wash his hair.

He closes his eyes.

He winces.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No, I’m fine.” 

She dries his hair. 

“Now, honey, before I show you. It’s short. Real short.”

“Okay…”

She turns him to the mirror.

It really is short.

But it’s normal. 

He feels _normal_. 

His hair.

One of the many things Ma controlled. 

She’d sit him outside whenever it got too long.

She’d use clippers.

Loud, scary electric clippers and she had to get the extension cord to plug them in and she’d yell at him, yell at Chastity and Modesty.

She’d tell him he squirmed around too much.

She’d smack the back of his head until he froze with fear and let her cut it. 

He touches his head and looks at his reflection.

He feels that lump in his throat.

He wipes at his eyes. 

“Oh, no, Credence… do you hate it?” Queenie asks.

He hugs her. 

“No, I like it… I like it very much, thank you.”

“Of course, honey.” 

Queenie puts a plate in front of him.

“Is it a good day?”

“Yes.”

“Great.”

She kisses his temple. 

His ears burn. 

He helps her wash the dishes. 

She reaches up. 

“Can I?”

He nods.

She brushes his bangs over a little bit. 

She touches a hand to his cheek.

“Miss Queenie…” 

“You really don’t have to call me that, Credence.”

“Queenie.” 

“Yes?” 

“C-can I ask you something?” 

“Always, honey.”

He looks at his hands. 

“What’s a homosexual?”

“Oh.”

“Ma always said they were bad… that God hated them. They were going to Hell. I-I never asked what they were… I was too scared.”

“Well, Credence… a homosexual is a, um… a person… who is attracted to… um… well let’s say we know a man named John. And John is sweet on another person, but that person is… also a man. John would be homosexual.”

“Is Mr. Graves…?”

“Oh. I don’t know.”

He wipes at his eyes.

“I’m sorry…”

“Honey… what’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I was listening to you and Jacob talk last night…”

Tears spill from his eyes.

“Honey… I forgive you… it’s okay…”

Queenie hugs him.

“Sweetheart… what did you hear?”

He sits and she sits with him. 

He sniffles.

“I heard Jacob say Mr. Graves is a homosexual.”

“We don’t know that. It’s just rumors. I mean jeez, honey, I’m more worried the guy’s in the mob.”

She gasps and covers her mouth.

“I shouldn’ta said that…” 

Credence doesn’t really understand what the mob is, so he doesn’t ask. 

“Queenie?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Do you think I’m a homosexual?”

“Do you think you are?”

He thinks.

He never found himself looking at women.

It was the only thing Ma liked about him. 

He never had a wandering eye for girls, or any unpure thoughts about them.

But _men_ …

Men are a different story.

He’s had more impure thoughts about men than he can count.

He’s had dreams about men that made him sob into his pillow and pray all morning for forgiveness. 

He’s felt Newt’s touch linger on his shoulder for hours.

Now, this thing with Graves. 

This man who might be a homosexual. He touches Credence’s hand. His touch feels like Queenie.

And Credence likes it.

And Credence wants more.

“I think I am,” he says softly.

He cries in Queenie’s arms for a long while. 

She shushes him and tells him everything’s okay. He’s not going to Hell. He’ll be fine.

She gives him some tea and suggests he get some rest. 

He thanks her and heads to bed.


	5. Pamphlets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Credence remembers a very bad day, and when he met Newt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warnings:  
> violence, homophobia, f slur, q slur, internalized homophobia

He lays on his back, rubbing his palms together.

His calloused, scarred palms.

A stove accident. 

What a _stupid_ lie. 

Credence was never a good liar. 

A memory hits Credence like a brick wall.

He loved handing out pamphlets. He got to be in the city.

Away from Ma. Away from his sisters. A moment of solitude. 

Sometimes people yelled at him.

He didn’t mind. He was surprised people gave him any attention. 

There was a day in Boston.

Maybe ten months ago.

He tried to block it out. 

He remembers it like it was yesterday.

“Hey, look. That freak square is back.”

Credence handed a pamphlet to a passing woman and glanced over.

Three college guys. 

Big. Mean.

They had come over to mess with him before, knocking over his pamphlets or pushing him around.

That day was different. 

The three of them walked up.

The sun was down.

The only people out were walking home from work, few and far between.

“Hey, nosebleed.” 

“Look at his fucking hair,” a blond one sneered.

“Does your mama cut your hair?” 

Credence nodded. 

He didn’t look at them. 

The tallest one snatched the pamphlet from Credence’s hands.

“New Salem Society… what the fuck does that mean?” the middle one asked.

“Oh, didn’t you know, Tommy? The freak thinks witches are real.”

The blond one laughed.

“That’s fucking _hilarious_.”

Credence flinched every time they swore.

“You can keep it,” he managed to say.

The boy pushed Credence back, shoving the paper in his hands.

“You better pack up, poindexter.”

“You don’t wanna miss your bus back to whatever shithole you’re from.”

He packed up his things and cut through an alley to get to the bus stop.

He checked his watch.

One hour. He could sit and wait.

Pass out pamphlets at the bus stop. Ma would be happy about that. 

Suddenly, he tripped.

His dropped his case.

His hands hit the pavement.

“Ow…” he groaned.

His hands were so sore and cut up already.

He’d wrapped some gauze around them.

He saw blood start to color the gauze.

He tried to get up and got kicked onto his side. 

“Hey, _freak_.”

He held his side and looked up.

The boys again.

“P-please…” 

The tall boy stomped on his chest.

He spit out blood.

“Faggot.” 

“Let me go, p-please-“

“Shut the fuck up,” the one called Tommy said. 

Tommy held his boot in front of Credence’s face.

“Should I do it, boys?”

“ _Dirty fucking queer_ ,” the blond one spat. 

“Get outta our town.”

Tommy rears back. 

“Hey!” 

“Shit, run!”

The boys took off and Credence could finally get up.

“Nasty little twits.” 

The man offered a hand.

“Y-you’re British,” Credence noted weakly. 

“And you’re hurt. Oh, my. Look at you.”

The man examines his face.

“Dr. Newt Scamander,” he says, shaking Credence’s hand. 

“Credence.” 

He was on the same bus as Credence.

He spent the entire ride tending too all the wounds.

“What do you do, Dr. Scamander?”

“Call me Newt, please. I’m a veterinarian.”

“What’s a veterinarian?” 

“A doctor for animals. Everything from lions to tortoises.” 

“That sounds interesting.” 

“What were you doing?”

“H-handing out pamphlets. For my mother.”

“Hm. The, uh… evangelical Christian kind?”

“Yes.”

“Ah.” 

The strange box Newt put under his seat made a noise.

“ _Shh, be quiet, darling_ ,” he said. 

Credence blushed. 

“Sorry?”

“Not you, Credence. Are you fond of animals?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, good.”

He slid out the box and opened it.

Inside was a kitten, mewling. 

“Shush, you. Would you like to hold her?”

“Um…” 

Credence looked at his freshly bandaged hands. 

“I’ll just put her in your lap.”

Newt placed the kitten in his lap. 

“I’ve never seen a kitten before. Stray cats on the road, sometimes.” 

Credence pet the cat with his exposed fingers. 

“She’s a calico. I was here on business, and I heard a neighbor had kittens. I had to get one. My girlfriend’s _exceptionally_ fond of cats. Particularly calicos.”

“ _Calico_ ,” Credence murmured.

“The funny thing is. This little darling is a genetic mutant.”

He looked at Newt.

“Oh dear. You’ve no idea what I’m saying, don’t you?”

He shook his head. 

“Well, when her mother was pregnant, something changed. Made her extraordinary. Calicos are all female, you see.” 

Newt scooped her up and placed her in the box.

“Sleep, you little thing.” 

He looked to Credence.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty three. I turn twenty four soon.”

“Twenty three. _Goodness_. Where did you go to school?”

“Oh, I was homeschooled. By my mother.” 

“That would explain you not knowing what a vet is. Where’d you get those injuries on your hand? I meant to ask while I was bandaging them.”

He avoided Newt’s eyes.

“You don’t have to tell me. They look rather painful. I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but wash them as often as you can. I’ll give you a fresh roll of gauze.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Of course.” 

He traces the scars on his palm, remembering. 

He told Ma he got beat up.

How many pamphlets did you give out, Credence? 

Newt took a few handfuls and stuffed them in his suitcase, for good measure. 

He told Ma he met an animal doctor on the bus and he’s the one who cleaned the cut. Put the bandages on him.

Not enough pamphlets, Credence. 

Modesty liked the story about the animal doctor. About the kitten in a box. 

He left out the parts about getting beat up. 

He wipes at an eye.

_Dirty fucking queer_.

They beat him up for being a homosexual.

And he didn’t even know he was. 

He wonders if it’s been obvious.

How it’s been obvious.

Has he been leering at men his whole life? 

Those boys knew.

Queenie knew.

Seems like everybody knew but Credence. 


	6. Back to the Office

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Credence goes back to work. He is now a homosexual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning:  
> mentions of abuse, homophobia

It’s a very quiet day in the office.

Leta is sick.

It’s just Graves and himself.

He files things.

He likes to use the big red stamp and the black marker.

Graves gets on phone calls with the door closed.

He yells.

He yells a lot.

At one point he comes outside to get some water, then heads back in without closing the door.

“If you even _think_ about it, I’ll ruin you, motherfucker. You know how much dirt I have on that dirty crook brother of yours? And your father? All the affairs he’s had? Yeah. Don’t fuck with me.”

He hangs up, angrily.

He goes to close the door and sees Credence.

“Oh. Hey. I forgot you were here. You’re so quiet.” 

Credence looks back to his papers.

“Credence?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Have you heard any… funny rumors about me?” 

“N-no. No sir.”

“You’re not a very good liar. Like what you said about your hands.”

Credence looks nervous. 

Graves leans on his desk.

“I’ll ask again, though.”

He can’t tell Graves about the homosexual rumor.

He almost thinks to say he’s a homosexual.

No, that’s stupid.

You’re so _stupid_ , Credence!

“I heard you were in the mob,” he blurts out.

He covers his mouth. 

Graves raises an eyebrow.

“That’s not what I expected you to say.”

“Wh-what did you expect me to say, sir?”

“Never mind.”

Graves starts to walk back.

Credence finds his eyes lingering on the man’s fit frame.

“Mr. Graves?” he asks, standing up. 

“Yes, Credence?”

“I heard… um… I heard that some people think you’re a _homosexual_.” 

Graves turns to face him. 

He doesn’t look mad.

“Now my question is… which of those is worse to you?”

“Which is wh-what?”

“Me being a homosexual or a mob boss. Which is worse?”

“O-oh… to be honest, sir, I don’t really know what the mob is, nobody’s ever explained it to me. I just know they’re uh… scary people. Italians.”

“Irish too.” 

“Yes, and they have lots of guns.”

“Is that worse?”

“I suppose, sir.”

“Didn’t you come from some evangelical radicals?” 

“Yes, sir, I did.”

He looks at Graves.

“Sir… I’m… um…”

“If you don’t want to work here anymore, Credence, that’s alright. Because I am a homosexual.”

“I am too,” Credence murmurs. 

God in Heaven.

What did you just do, Credence?

“ _You’re_ a homosexual?”

“Yes, sir.” 

“How long have you been one?”

“Um… since last night…”

“Does anyone else know?”

“Yes, sir. Queenie Goldstein.”

“Huh.”

“Am I… who else knows about you, sir?”

“Nobody ‘ _knows_ ’. It’s purely speculation. They saw me touch a young man’s arm at a bar and suddenly I’m a goddamn homosexual wildfire raging through Manhattan.” 

Graves looks at him.

“You won’t tell anyone, Credence?”

“No, nobody, sir.”

“Good. I’ll keep quiet on my end.” 

“Sir…”

“Yes?”

“My hands.”

Credence holds them out.

An invitation for Graves to take them like he did last time. 

Which he does.

He looks at Credence. 

“What about your hands?”

“My mother used to beat me with a belt… o-on my hands.” 

“Oh my God.”

Graves gets a good look at the scars all over his hands.

“Jesus.”

“I was never good enough for her…” 

“ _Credence_.”

He feels one of Graves’ hands on his cheek.

His eyes go wide as he looks into the brown eyes in front of him.

“She wasn’t good enough for you.“

Credence takes a shaky breath.

“Sir…”

“Are you okay?”

“It’s four fifty six, sir.”

“Oh. Yes. I’ll see you tomorrow, Credence.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what the fuck gay little credence


	7. Holy Roll in the Hay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Credence thinks about sex. Very sinful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warnings:  
> internalized homophobia, gender dysphoria (kind of?), self hate

The easiest way to break a habit is to make a new routine.

That’s what Newt said when Jacob stopped smoking. 

Credence sits on his bed.

How does that apply to all the things he couldn’t do with Ma?

He started small.

Eating whatever he wanted.

Peanut butter and jelly.

He’d say swear words to himself in his room. 

Queenie would let him say ‘ _goddamn_ ’. 

He finally cut his hair. 

But he was stuck on sex.

Every time he dreamt about kissing, or doing much more than that, he’d wake up, sweating.

He’d cry and pray, clasping his hands together and digging his own nails in for punishment. 

He’d have… funny thoughts.

That’s what Queenie called them.

When you think about something real dumb or something you wouldn’t actually do, she said. Funny. 

“Like when I’m cutting carrots and I think ‘I could take my finger off right now’. But you wouldn’t, actually.” 

He remembers when she took them walking and they passed a women’s shop.

There were lace nightgowns and slips in the window.

They looked very soft. 

Queenie thought the reason Credence was so crimson in the face was because of the female mannequins, or him thinking ‘wow, women really wear this stuff’.

He had a funny thought about him wearing all that.

_Funny_. 

He can’t think about Graves without a warm feeling in his stomach and his ears heating up.

Credence wants to do one thing and has no idea how to go about it.

Masturbation.

He… sort of knows what it is.

He knows that the _thing_ between his legs he hates is part of it.

He wishes and fantasizes for a good few moments, a world where he is Mr. Graves’ attractive young female secretary.

And neither is a homosexual.

Where he’s beautiful and petite and delicate.

Not gangly and tall and covered in scars.

And pale, but not in a sexy way, like girls are. Pale like sickly, hasn’t seen the sun. 

And Graves…

Graves _fucks_ Credence. 

He fucks Credence on the desk of his office and leans into his ear and tells him he’s beautiful in that gravelly voice. 

A fantasy that fizzles out, quickly, because Credence gets scared of his own erection.

There was a night when he first came to Queenie’s, and Newt bought him new pajamas.

They were softer than anything Ma ever gave him.

Queenie let Credence sleep with the door locked if he wanted.

So he locked the door.

He laid down to go to bed and he remembers brushing his… 

His _dick_. 

Against the matters. 

He had to cover his mouth.

He kept repeating that motion until he whined into his pillow and his underwear got wet.

That was one of Credence’s better nights.

He wanted to do it again, but he was so scared to have Queenie see all his underwear get dirty that way. 

Or God forbid one of them hear him.

Credence Barebone, the masturbating maniac.

Credence realizes he’s in even more of a dilemma.

Even if he asks Queenie questions, he’d have to explain: 

Hey Queenie, I want to know how to have sex with another man. Who is he? Well, he’s twelve years older than me, I happen to work for him, and he half admitted that he’s a mob boss the other night. Man, I’m crazy about him Queenie. 

A mob boss.

He thinks about Graves’ voice on the phone.

“If you even think about it, I’ll ruin you, motherfucker.” 

He thinks about Graves talking to him in that voice.

You’re going to Hell.

Is there a special layer for lusty, greedy creeps?

He thinks about Graves.

What he must look like naked.

He’s very fit.

He’s probably strong.

He could probably lift Credence.

Or have a strong grip.

He inhales sharply.

He digs his nails into his palms.

Only he would think about sex and get surprised when he has an erection. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> horny credence hours


	8. A Drink at Percy’s

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Credence has a drink at Percival’s house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning:  
> internalized homophobia, mentions of sugar daddies

Credence has enjoyed the last few weeks he’s spent working for Graves. 

Percival Graves says ‘fuck’ so much, Credence’s started to think it.

He said it. 

He hit his elbow on the table and said:

“Fuck!” 

Queenie dropped and broke a glass, then laughed for a few minutes.

“Something about you swearing is just real funny, honey.” 

His workdays are mostly normal. 

As normal as you can get, thinking _horrible, sinful_ things about the man you work for.

Graves is in an awful mood today. 

He barks at Leta.

“ _Goddamn_ it!”

He storms into his office.

Comes out a few minutes later.

He breathes.

Credence can barely hear him. 

“Sorry, Leta. I’m at my wits end here.”

“It’s alright, Percy.” 

She puts a hand on his arm and he smiles, softening.

Credence feels jealous.

Are you stupid, Credence?

Graves is a homosexual, he told you himself! 

Leta isn’t competition. You’re not even in the race! 

You’re a freak ex-cult kid who Graves feels bad for, you think he’s gonna fuck you? 

Graves catches Credence staring.

Instead of his usual softness, he snaps.

“What are you _looking_ at?”

“Nothing, sir.” 

Leta goes home first.

She always does, it seems, at four. 

At four thirty, Graves comes out of his office. 

“Credence?”

“Yes, sir?”

“How about we call it a day early? You wanna come to my place, for a drink?”

“I don’t drink, sir-“

“Then you can have water or a _goddamn_ apple juice, for all I care. Would you like to come over?” 

“Yes, sir. I would.” 

Percival Graves has an automobile.

Credence has never been in one. 

He’s been on busses and the subway, but never an automobile. 

He sits in the passenger seat and holds his case on his lap.

“You’ve never been in a car before, have you?”

Credence shakes his head. 

“Other vehicles? Bus? Tractor?”

“Yes, just not a car, sir.” 

“You don’t have to call me sir, Credence. We’re not at the office.”

He starts to drive.

“You don’t need to call me sir at the office, either.”

“Oh.”

“Leta calls me Percy. Sir makes it feel militant.” 

“You were in the army, right… Percy?”

“I was.“

“What did you do?”

“Explosives and reconnaissance.” 

“ _Reconnaissance_ ,” Credence repeats, nearly whispering.

What a beautiful word. 

“Do you know what that is?” 

“No.”

“I’d go scope things out. See what the battlefield looked like. Tell the rest of the troops.”

Credence nods, taking it in.

“Did you leave the army?”

“Yes. My father was sick.”

“I’m sorry-“

“I didn’t care about him much. He didn’t care for me either.”

The car pulls up to the biggest house Credence has ever seen.

He’s still murmuring the words ‘ _Chevrolet convertible_ ’ when Graves opens the door for him. 

He steps out and they walk into the massive black house together. 

“You live here?”

“Yeah…”

“Alone?”

“Mostly. There’s a maid who comes twice a week. And a gardener. He lives in Queens, though.” 

He sheds his coat and his suit jacket, hanging one on a hook and the other on a hanger in a closet.

“Take off your coat, Credence.” 

He does as he’s told and Graves hangs up his coat.

Credence swears he sees him bite his lip. 

“C’mon, this way.”

Credence follows him.

His body is like a triangle, Credence thinks.

Broad shoulders, smaller waist. 

He goes to a record player and puts on a record. 

It’s jazz music.

Credence loves jazz. 

Ma always said it was sinful. 

He pours himself a drink.

“Sir?”

“Credence,” he warns. 

“Sorry… Percy?”

“Yes?”

“I’d like to um… I’d like to try it…”

“What, some booze? Sure.”

He offers Credence his own glass.

“It’s whiskey. It’ll burn a little.”

Credence takes a sip and winces.

“How’s that?” 

“It burns, definitely.” 

He takes the cup back with a soft chuckle, patting Credence’s shoulder.

“I’ll get you a seltzer, how about that?” 

“Alright.”

Credence learns that seltzer is soda pop without the sweetness.

He likes how the bubbles feel.

Queenie is a fiend for Coca-Cola which doesn’t help Credence, who grew up thinking any kind of soda pop was sinful. 

He’d sit at dinner having his water or orange juice, and Queenie would have a Coke, and Jacob would have a beer. 

“Awful lot of thinking going on in that head of yours, huh?”

“Sorry?”

Graves sits across from him. 

“You’re always thinking, that’s all. I see you at work. Very deep in thought.”

“I don’t know. It’s only been about seven months since I’ve been here. Away from my mother, I mean. And you, Mist- Percy… I’ve only known you for a short while and you’ve changed my life so much…” 

“You’re a great help to me. Around the office.”

Graves leans forward, placing his whiskey on a small table next to him.

“Credence?”

“Yes?”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty four. Twenty five soon.”

Graves looks confused.

“I thought you were eighteen…” 

“No, twenty four.” 

He chuckles.

“ _Jesus_ … fuck. Here I thought I was this old creep-“ 

“You’re not old, sir.” 

“I’m thirty eight. Which is more reasonable if you’re twenty four.”

Graves looks at him. 

“Credence… I quite like you.”

“Oh. I like you very much too, Percy.” 

“Yes, I know you do.”

“Y-you do?”

“You’re not very subtle. You look at me the way all my business partners gawk at Leta when they come into the office. And I’ve caught you staring at my ass, too.” 

Credence turns red.

“I-I… I’m sorry, I’m really sorry-“

“Hey, hey. It’s fine. It’s flattering, really. Someone like you thinking I’m attractive.”

“What do you mean?”

“Most of the gay men-“

Credence looks confused.

“Homosexuals. We mostly call ourselves ‘gay’ Credence. Homosexual is a little… clinical.”

“ _Gay_.” 

“Anyway, most of the gay men your age… they don’t want a relationship. They want a… sugar daddy.”

“S-sugar daddy?”

Credence nearly faints.

He’s heard worse things about sex, but ‘sugar daddy’ is the lewdest term he thinks he’ll ever hear.

“It’s an older man who buy things for a younger man. Someone would come to me and we’d have sex, and I’d spend all my mafia money on him,” he half-jokes.

“You don’t have to worry about me, Percy.”

“I know. Goldstein said gifts make you faint.” 

“You know other men? Like us?”

“Maybe if Queenie’ll let me, I’ll take you to a place I know.”

Credence rubs the palms of his hands together.

“Would you kiss me?” he asks softly.

Graves looks surprised. 

“Would I what?”

“Kiss me. I-I’ve never been kissed before…”

“Twenty four and never been kissed? Jesus…” 

Credence’s blush darkens.

Graves stands and offers a hand to Credence.

He lifts him effortlessly.

Credence feels a hand on his hip.

The other on his cheek.

It’s such a gentle touch.

Credence knows he’ll cry.

Graves kisses him softly. 

His eyes flutter and shut.

He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. 

They’re up, almost defensive.

He drapes them around Graves’ neck. 

Graves pulls away.

“Rats, I have no easy getaway now,” he jokes, looking at the arms around him. “How was that?”

“ _Perfect_ ,” Credence murmurs. 

“Perfect might be a little overdramatic.”

“I care about you, Mr. Graves,” he says.

“I care about you, Credence.”

“Will you kiss me again?”

“Yes, of course.”

Credence melts into his arms, enjoying every second, every possible emotion and sensation this kiss has.

He feels Graves-

No.

_Percy_.

He feels Percy smile against his lips and chuckle again.

“What?”

Credence’s eyes open.

He’s laughing means he did something wrong. 

“Nothing. You’re just so delightfully… _Credence_. Even when you’re kissing, baby.”

Credence could die.

Queenie’s only called him baby a few times, when she’s worried about him. 

He loves it. 

“ _Baby_ ,” he murmurs. 

“Do you like that?”

“Yes, very much.” 

Percy runs his thumb across Credence’s cheek, catching a tear.

“You’re crying?”

“Sorry…”

“Don’t say sorry, you haven’t done anything wrong. You really haven’t had a lotta nice people in your life, huh?”

“I didn’t have anyone… my sisters, I guess… but now I have Newt and Tina, and Queenie and Jacob. And you.”

“And me? I’m honored.”

They sit.

Percy lets Credence lean on him.

“You really like Queenie, huh?”

“Oh, she’s amazing. Nobody’s like her. She’s kind and gentle and patient with me…”

“I should have a talk with her…”

“Why?”

“I guess I have to learn how to take care of you.” 

Percy kisses him again when he drops him off.

Credence walks up the stairs and into the apartment.

“Hi, honey,” Queenie says.

“Hey, Cree.” 

Jacob smiles. 

“You’re home late.” 

“Nose to the grindstone?” 

“Um, n-no. Per- Mr. Graves took me to his house. We had a drink.”

“ _Drink_? You don’t drink.”

“I had a uh… a seltzer.”

“Oh. Maybe that’s what we should do to get you drinking pop.”

“Maybe. I-I’ll be in my room.”

He sits on his bed in his pajamas, reading through his book about Egypt.

Tracing the Sphinx’s face. 

A knock.

“Yes?”

“It’s Queenie.” 

“Come in.”

She comes in and closes the door.

“Hey, honey.” 

“Hello.”

“Can I sit?”

He scoots over and she sits next to him. 

“How was work?”

“Good. Percy was in a mood.” 

“Percy?”

“Mr. Graves.”

“Oh. Is he scary, in a mood?”

“No,” he says, very matter-of-factly. 

He absentmindedly holds Queenie’s hand. 

“That reminds me… we gotta get you more of that scar cream…”

“Okay.”

“What did you do at his house?”

He blushes.

“Credence…”

“H-he kissed me…”

“He _what_?”

“I asked him to, I did, Queenie, honest. He’d never do anything without me asking…” 

“Did you like it?”

He nods.

“Good. Are you… I dunno, going steady?”

“I don’t know. I want to kiss him again, I think.”

“Jeez… I knew you were, honey, but… wow. Percy Graves. I’ve known the guy since high school, Tina has too. I never woulda suspected he was… _y’know_.” 

He is y’know.

He is very much y’know.

And Credence is too.

And Credence wants to… y’know. 

“I know.” 


	9. A Word of Advice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Queenie has a chat with Percival.
> 
> NOTE: this and chapter 10 take place at the same time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning:  
> homophobia, abuse mention

A few days later, Queenie is washing the dishes when the phone rings.

“Kowalski‘s Pastries, how can I help you?” 

“Queenie, hey. It’s Percival.”

“Hi, Perce. You want me to get Credence?” 

“No, actually, I wanted to talk to you. Would you like to come over for coffee?”

“Sure, I’m not doing anything. Want me to bring Credence?”

“I think this should just be us, Queenie.”

“Alright.”

“Queenie?” Credence calls.

“Yeah?”

“I’m gonna go to the zoo to see Newt!”

“Okay, honey! Have fun!” 

Percy sends a car to get Queenie.

She feels real fancy riding in it.

He lets her in, grinning.

“Percy, can I hug you?”

“Sure.”

They embrace.

“Boy, Perce. Feels like I ain’t seen you since high school.” 

“It’s been a while.”

“Look at you! Living the high life, huh?”

He leads her to the parlor and she sits down.

“Wow. This is _beautiful_. Can’t believe you and Tina meet in here all the time…”

“Oh, we take our meetings in the study, actually. You know Tina’s a… pace and worry kind of girl.”

“Right. And I’m the kinda girl to sit down and relax?”

“I-I’m sorry-“

“I’m kidding. Jeez, relax. You don’t gotta treat me like royalty just cause Credence lives in my house.”

He sighs.

“Credence told you, then?”

She nods.

“He’s a sweet guy. But real screwed up, too, so you better be ready to take care of him.”

“You don’t mind?”

“Oh trust me, buster, I mind. He likes you. A lot. You’re rubbing off on him. He started saying the eff word because of you.”

“He did? I didn’t realize I said it that much.” 

“You were always a playboy, Percy. Even when you were pretending you liked girls. You really broke some hearts in high school. Including me and Teenie’s.”

“I’m sorry, Queenie.” 

“It’s fine. Makes it feel a little better knowing you’re…” 

“Gay?” 

She nods

“Besides, I got my honey, Tina’s got that funny veterinarian. He’s a sweetie.”

“Queenie… I really care for Credence.”

“Of _course_ you do, you big softie. He’s like a puppy. You gotta love him.”

“I just… I know you know him so well. I don’t ever want to hurt him.”

“Oh… you want the inside scoop? Spending too much time with Tina, Percy.” 

“It’s hardly investigative journalism, Queenie. I just wanna know some things.”

“First of all, you _never_ yell at him. Even if you’re frustrated, even if you wanna scream and cuss him out, you never, ever yell at Credence.”

“Why?”

“His mom yelled at him all the time. She pretty much only yelled at him.” 

“Alright.”

“When you want him to do something, you gotta say it like a suggestion.”

“Like how?”

“Like, instead of ‘go get your book off the couch, Credence’, you say ‘Credence, you left your book on the couch, if you want to go grab it’. Tell him he can if he wants to. He’ll do it, but it just makes him feel better.” 

“Anything else?”

“Ask before you touch him. _Always_. He likes you, but men touching him is a big no-no.” 

Queenie thinks.

“Oh! Don’t ever mention Boston.”

“Boston? How come?”

Queenie sighs.

“He got beat up there. Almost a year ago. Some college _motherfuckers_. Pardon my French.” 

“Because he’s gay?”

“Yeah. He didn’t even know he was… just cause… he had that funny hair, handing out them little pamphlets about Jesus. Oh! Don’t take your belt off in front of him. Belts in general are bad.”

“I wear suspenders.”

“Good.” 

Percy smiles. 

“Percy?”

“Yes.”

“You really in the mob?”

“Yes.”

“I won’t tell, Perce, don’t worry.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m not gonna let Credence’s honey go to jail. But maybe when you’re spoiling him on fifth avenue you pick up a pair of Balenciagas for me?”

“Sure, Queenie.”

Credence wakes up to the sound of someone coming home.

He’d fallen asleep on the couch.

He was watching cartoons.

“Hi, honey. How was the zoo?” 

“Good. Where were you?” 

“Percy’s place. We had a little chat.”

She winks at him.

He goes red.

“What’d he say?”

“Oh, he’s crazy about you, honey.” 

“Is he?” 

Credence blushes. 

“What were you talking about?”

“You, silly.”

“Really?”

Credence is surprised when anyone’s ever talking about him.

Percy thinks about him.

He sighs, happy.

“What’s up, honey?” 

“Nothing… I’m really happy, that’s all.”

“Well, if Percy makes you happy, that makes me happy.”

He smiles.

“You’re a sweet guy, you know that, Credence?”


	10. The New York Zoo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Credence sees Newt at the zoo. And then has a terrible day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warnings:  
> internalized homophobia, homophobic violence, f slur, q slur, self hate

After a few more days of awkwardly working in the same office, Credence has a day off.

So he decides to visit Newt.

At the zoo. 

Credence knocks on the side door that says 

** STAFF ONLY **

A familiar man answers the door.

He looks Credence up and down. 

“You cut your hair.”

“Hello, Abernathy.” 

”Hold on.” 

He picks up a radio reciever.

“Hey, is Doctah Scamander there?”

Credence likes the way the New York accent sounds for the word ‘doctor’. 

“Yes, Abernathy, I happen to be sedating a _bloody_ big cat! 

“Hey, uh, that kid is back.”

“Who, Credence?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll be over, just a moment. Down girl!” 

Credence sits inside, waiting for Newt. 

“Credence! What a surprise!“

Credence smiles.

Newt hugs him, which makes Abernathy look away.

“Wonderful to see you. Let’s go to my office, shall we?”

“Yes, please.” 

He leads Credence to his office, walking past some capuchin monkeys.

“Cheeky little buggers. Incredibly smart.” 

They arrive in Newt’s office.

“I could use a hand.”

He sees a big cat on Newt’s examination table.

“That’s a big cheetah.” 

“She’s a leopard.” 

“What’s the difference?”

“Oh, I could go on and on. But mainly, her spots. And she’s more of a, um… vertical kind of girl. Not running, jumping and climbing.”

“Wow.”

“You can pet her. She’s slightly sedated.”

Credence carefully pets her head.

She purrs.

A loud and scary purr, not like Newt and Tina’s cat.

He jerks his hand away. 

“Oh, no. Don’t worry. You see, all cats can roar, right? Our cat Pickett, our little girl, she meows and purrs. But this big girl? She roars. But she purrs, too. Just very loud. She’s a strong cat with very strong vocal chords.” 

Two men come in and help take away the leopard.

“Will you tell them to give her this, as well?”

“Yes, Dr. Scamander.”

“Alright. Thank you, lads.”

He shuts the door and sits down in his wheeled chair.

He spins to face Credence.

“You can sit if you like.” 

Credence sits on a chair nearby.

“How’s it been working with Percival Graves? I’ve only met him once or twice, with Tina. But I hear he’s quite a _toss_ \- erm… quite grumpy.” 

“He gets in moods sometimes. I really like working for him.”

“I see. What’s he like?”

“Percy? He’s nice, and-“

“ _Percy_?” Newt asks.

It’s almost like he knows.

“Oh, yes. I um… I went over to his house a few days ago. And we had a drink-“

“I thought you didn’t.”

“I don’t, I had a seltzer. He asked me to call him Percy.”

“Huh.”

Newt turns to his typewriter.

“And what else did you do?”

“Wh-what else? W-we listened to some jazz music. And talked.”

“Talked about what?”

“Work.”

“You know, people think he’s a homosexual,” Newt says. “Must be gossip, though. I couldn’t imagine.” 

“Did Queenie tell you anything?” 

“Anything about what? Queenie’s my sister-in-law, and I love her, but we don’t talk much. Recreationally.” 

“Um… nothing.” 

“You can tell me anything. Really.”

“I’m a homosexual and so is he and we kissed and I think we’re going steady, or whatever that means, and I really like him,” Credence blurts out.

“I’m glad you’re happy, Credence.” 

“You don’t hate me?”

“No. Not at all.“ 

“Aren’t you surprised?”

“Well, yes. Much more on Graves’ part. I never would have known. But you… not very.”

What makes it so obvious?

Percy said he caught him staring. 

Had Credence been making eyes at every man he’d ever met? 

Is he a creep?

“How’d you know?”

“Oh, it’s easy to tell, really.”

“How?”

“Well, I like men too.” 

“But Tina-“

“I’ve always liked whoever was placed in front of me, Credence, regardless of sex. Tina happens to be my favorite, that’s all.” 

“So… you could tell… because…”

“Because when I was younger I was the same way. I’d’ve drooled over someone like Graves too.” 

“Have you… um… have you had sex with men and women?”

Newt’s freckled face glows red.

“ _Gracious_ , you’re full of questions today. Yes. When I was younger. Animals do it all the time. Animals are homosexual as well, Credence.”

Credence smiles softly.

“I’ve been all over the world in my studies. And what I learned is that England is a very backwards place. As are the United States. Lots of cultures have had homosexuality for thousands of years. I met lots of beautiful people. Men, women, people from all walks of life. And for love to be… restricted. For one’s own truth to be restricted? That’s not compassion at all. That’s certainly not Christianity.”

Credence tears up.

“Give me your hands, Credence, please.” 

Newt holds his hands.

“Credence? Look at me?”

Credence looks at him through teary eyes.

“You know God loves you? He loves you so much.”

Tears stream down Credence’s face.

“No, he doesn’t. He doesn’t… he never will,” Credence whispers.

Newt looks at him.

“Oh, you poor boy. That woman was so wicked. Wicked and cruel to you.”

“No… no, she was my Ma… she loved me…”

“No. She didn’t love you and she didn’t deserve to love you. We do. We love you, Credence. I love you. Tina does. Jacob does. Queenie loves you with every fiber of her being.”

Credence sniffs and wipes at his face.

Newt hands him a handkerchief.

“Don’t wipe on your sleeves.” 

“Th-thank you…” 

Credence stays with Newt for a little while longer.

They bring in some small animals for him to tend to.

A bird with a nasty cut and a bunny that had an ear infection. 

Credence liked the bunny.

He got to hold it while Newt looked at the ears.

He walks home.

He collapses on his bed and cries.

He cries until it feels like there’s nothing left in him anymore.

He lays and remembers and it hurts.

He remembers so much, how he pushed it down.

He remember looking at a boy after the service.

Looking at him and smiling and Ma beat his hands hard.

He thought he didn’t set the chairs up right. 

He remembers a time where Chastity was being harassed by some… guy and he stepped in.

And the guy punched him.

And he called Credence:

“Fucking freak-ass faggot.”

And he called Chastity:

“Freak slut.”

Ma comforted Chastity and told her she was a perfect girl.

Ma’s perfect virginal girl.

Credence didn’t get the same comfort.

He asked Ma what it meant.

What is it?

Why do people always call him that? 

“Take it off.” 

“Wh-what did I do wrong?”

“Give me your belt, Credence.”

“Ma, please, let me pray for it, I’ll pray for Chastity, please…” 

“Your sister… is an angel. You’re dirty. You’ll always be dirty.”

He gets up, rubbing his palms together. .

He showers.

He takes his belt off with his eyes closed. 

You’re dirty. You’ll always be dirty. 

He looks at himself in the mirror.

His hair is growing out.

Normal.

He looks normal. 

He looks handsome. 

But underneath you’re _Ma’s little freak._

He grips the sink. 

_ Freak-ass faggot. _

He claws into his own hands, clasping them together, rasping a prayer. 

_ Dirty fucking queer.  _

He gets dressed. 

He curls into a fetal position. 

Safe. Comfortable.

He sits on the couch and watches cartoons.

He feels empty.

Queenie comes home.

They talk.

Jacob comes home.

Dinner. 

He laughs and smiles.

It’s not real. 

He sits in his room for bed.

He still feels so numb.

He wants to crawl under his bed and rot.

“Credence? Can I come in?” 

“Yes,” he croaks.

“I just got off the phone with Newt.”

“Oh.”

“Honey… I think you should… talk to someone.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Like… a psychiatrist.” 

He doesn’t hesitate.

“No,” he says.

Queenie’s a little surprised.

“I’m sorry. That was rude.” 

“Credence…” 

“I have a disease. I’m… I’m sick. In the head. I’m _sick_. And _dirty_.”

“Oh, baby-“ 

Baby.

“-you don’t really think that?”

He nods.

She holds him.

“I know someone you might like. She doesn’t practice no more but… she’s good friends with Percy and me. We went to high school together.”

“What’s her name?”

“Seraphina. Seraphina Piquery.”

Seraphina Piquery. 

This had to be the woman Percy was always on the phone with.

He now knew Leta had a fiancé.

Theseus is his name, and he is extremely handsome. 

So he never felt jealous when Percy innocently flirted with her. No doubt keeping up appearances, so nobody suspected.

But Seraphina…

“Sera, how are you, princess?” 

Credence always turned red at the way Percy said ‘princess’.

“I’ll go see her.” 

_ Hail Queenie, full of grace.  _

_ The Lord is with thee.  _

_ Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the freak of thy home, Credence.  _

_ Holy Queenie, Guardian of Credence, pray for us homosexuals now, and at the hour of our death. _

_ Amen.  _


	11. Doctor Seraphina

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Credence meets Seraphina Picquery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warnings:  
> internalized homophobia, mentions of abuse, disordered eating, self hate

The first time Credence meets Seraphina Piquery is not in her office, as her patient. 

Percy invites him over.

And he and the most beautiful woman Credence has ever seen are laughing together.

She sits-

No, she’s _draped_ on a chair.

She wears a green dress andgorgeous, gold jewelry. 

“Percival… who’s this?”

“Hm? Oh!”

Percy puts down his drink and walks over to Credence.

“Hello, Percy.”

“Hi, baby.”

_Baby_.

“Can I kiss you?”

Credence looks to the woman nervously.

“Don’t worry about her.”

“Yes, you can kiss me.” 

Percy kisses him softly, a hand on his cheek.

The smallest whine leaves Credence’s throat, overwhelmed from the sudden contact after not feeling his touch for five days. 

“C’mon.”

Percy takes his hand and leads him into the parlor.

He takes the woman’s drink and goes to the bar to fill it. 

“Siddown. Uh, if you wanna,” he corrects, remembering what Queenie said. 

Credence sits on the couch.

“You want a seltzer?”

“Yes, please.”

He gives the woman what looks like a glass of wine and hands Credence his glass bottle of seltzer. 

He stands between them, smiling.

“Percy,” the woman says. 

“Oh shit. Right. Credence, this is my business partner, Seraphina Piquery.” 

“Percival, _sweetheart_ , we’re hardly business partners.”

“Well… best friend sounds a little informal.” 

“He’s cute,” she says, sipping her wine. 

Credence blushes.

“Thank you, Miss P-“ 

“Oh, please. Call me Seraphina or Sera. I can’t _stand_ Percy’s toys-“

“Sera!” 

“- _boys_ \- you know I’m kidding, Perce- I can’t _stand_ them calling me ‘Miss’.” 

Credence saves that for later. 

She continues to drink while looking at him.

“What are you… eighteen?”

_“Twenty_ _four_ ,” Percy grits through closed teeth. 

“Relax. I’m still kidding. At least he looks older than the last one.”

“You’re gonna have a field day tomorrow if you keep it up, _princess_.” 

“You‘ve got the funniest look on your face when you’re angry.” 

“Seraphina was just having a drink before she leaves,” Percy says, shooting her a look.

“Fine. I’ll leave you boys alone.” 

Percy sighs.

They embrace.

She kisses his cheek, he kisses hers. 

“Good to see you, Sera.”

“I’ll be in DC for a week, so I’ll see you sometime next month?” 

“Sounds good.”

“Bye, Percival.”

“Goodbye, princess.” 

Percy sighs, laughing, and walks into the parlor again.

Credence looks confused. 

“Sorry, baby.”

“That’s alright. She’s funny.”

“The thing… when she says my other boys-“ 

“I’m not dumb, I know I’m not your first… person.”

“I haven’t had anyone for a few years at this point.” 

“Well, I wouldn’t mind either way,” Credence says. 

Percy smiles.

“Anyways, _you’re_ my person now.”

Credence smiles nervously.

Percy finally stops standing.

It was making Credence anxious. 

Percy sits down on the chair across from him.

He notices the way Percy sits. 

Legs spread a bit wider than necessary, feet planted on the ground.

Bent a little, a hand on his knee, ready to listen to Credence. 

“What’re you looking at? You wanna sit over here?”

Credence’s ears heat up.

“Um…”

He’s thought about sitting on Percy’s lap.

He knows he’s too tall. 

And bony. 

“Percy… would you sit over here?”

“Sure.” 

He gets up and sits next to Credence. 

Credence fidgets for a moment and takes Percy’s hand.

”Can I kiss you?” Percy murmurs.

“Yes, please.”

Percy kisses him.

A little more passion this time, with no Seraphina watching. 

He feels the hand on his cheek snake back and card into the beginnings of Credence’s soft, black hair. 

Credence whimpers softly. 

His hands, which had been on his lap, reach for something.

One places itself on Percy’s knee and the other gently rests on his chest. 

They break for air and Percy dips back in, kissing him again.

Percy’s other hand finds it’s way to Credence’s hip, pulling him closer. 

The sudden movement moves Credence’s whole body, his hand moving from Percy’s knee to his thigh.

“Whoa, cool your jets.” 

“It was an accident! I’m sorry…”

“Hey, no worries. You can do whatever you want, Credence. I just don’t wanna rush you.”

“Rush me?”

“Well… you’re… you’ve never done this before.”

“I like… _exploring_ …” 

Percy smiles.

“Percy…”

“Yes?”

“You talk to Seraphina the way that Jacob talks to Queenie. A-and Newt talks to Tina. Did you um…”

“We used to date. Nearly got married. Not for love.”

“Oh.”

“Do you know what lavender marriage is, Credence?” 

“No.”

Credence thinks that sounds delightful. 

“It’s when two homosexuals-“

“Like us?”

“No, a man and woman.”

“Women can be homosexual?”

“Yes. Seraphina is one.”

“Oh. So… she likes…”

“Women. She’s not taken at the moment. She did have a fling with Goldstein, before she met that British guy.” 

“Tina?”

“Yes. People like us tend to find each other. When my father died, and I inherited the company, I was already working with the mob. There was a lotta eyes on me. Seraphina and I started to date, not for love. Just to keep up appearances. So the way we talk to each other… it’s a little left over from that. And I’m sorry if she sounded rude, she loves to tease me.”

“Why?”

“She thinks it’s funny to make me frustrated, that’s all. I tease her all the time.”

“Oh.”

“Why’d you ask? Were you jealous?”

Percy has a teasing look on his face.

Nobody’s _ever_ played with Credence like this.

Not his sisters.

Modesty teased Chastity about boys but Chastity’d stare daggers at Credence and make him swear he wouldn’t tell Ma. 

He never looked at girls, so they never had anything to tell him about. 

Queenie never says anything playful, she’s too worried she’ll hurt his feelings on accident.

“A little, actually.”

Percy smiles.

“Really? I didn’t think you’d be the jealous type.”

He laughs.

“You must hate the way I talk to Leta.”

“I don’t hate it… I know you do it so nobody suspects.”

“I’d flirt with you at the office too, if I could.”

Percy touches a hand to Credence’s face.

He leans into it.

“God, you’re cute.” 

Credence blushes.

“Real _fucking_ cute.” 

“Percy…”

“Yes?”

“Would you… would you um… touch me?”

“Where?”

“Uh…”

Percy takes the hand on his waist and reaches around to Credence’s backside.

Credence gasps.

“Is this okay?”

“Yes!”

Percy chuckles.

“Alright. You wanna keep kissing?”

“Yes, please.”

Credence sits in Seraphina’s office, awkwardly.

“So… what did you want to talk about, Credence?”

“I-I don’t know… Queenie thinks I should talk to somebody.” 

“Why don’t you start by telling me about yourself?” 

“My name is Credence… I’m twenty four, almost twenty five. I um… I lived with my mother for a very long time… for twenty three years… I-I don’t like this.”

“Just try saying whatever you’re thinking. And I’ll be quiet. I’ll sit right here.”

“My mother was a really religious woman. She believed there were witches in New England, she thought we needed to hunt down the unnatural and wicked. I ran away. I took an overnight bus, and I-I was staying in a hostel… and then I was with Newt, he’s a veterinarian. B-but you know that… you used to date Tina?” 

“This isn’t about me, Credence. I want to hear about you.” 

“I’m a homosexual. I didn’t _know_ I was a homosexual, but I guess everyone else did. A-and my mother hit me. She hit me all the time for lots of things. I suppose she hit me for being a homosexual, but I always thought she was mad for something else. She told me she loved me b-but lately I’ve been thinking she didn’t actually mean it. And I used to have _really_ stupid looking hair, because Ma wouldn’t ever let me have anything but this… this ugly straight-across haircut. And she never told me about sex. And now I’ve been seeing a man who’s had sex with _dozens_ of men, and I’ve never done anything, ever.”

“Do you want sex education?” 

“I don’t know… I’d like to… I’d like to not be afraid of my own body. I _hate_ my body. Really, I do. Showers are awful, I hate looking at myself, I’m so pale and skinny. I try to eat, but I’m so stuck on the way I always eat, and anything more makes me feel so _selfish_ … and terrible. Sometimes I can’t- I can’t _fucking_ believe Percy finds me attractive.”

He covers his mouth.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to say that, y-you’re a lady…” 

“That’s alright. You can swear all you like.” 

“I wish I knew more about everything. My life is so normal. I live with my friends, I have a job. I have a… person. Who cares about me. But it just doesn’t feel real. Not at all.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the hiatus my classes just started! but i’ll continue this don’t worry


	12. Coca-Cola and Anger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THIS CHAPTER IS NSFW  
> Percy gets blackmailed. Credence has a Coca-Cola. Credence gets a handjob.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warnings:   
> internalized homophobia, abuse mentions, sexual situations

Credence sits at his desk, stacking papers and redacting things that could get Percy arrested. 

He told Seraphina more in one hour than he’s told Queenie in seven- 

Almost eight months. 

Why? 

Why did it just fall out of his mouth? 

He’s never been particularly talkative or a motormouth like Chastity was. 

At least she’s out of town so Credence has time to think. 

Leta’s fiancé shows up at the office.

“Hey, Credence. Have you seen Leta?” 

“She just went down to the mailbox to pick up something for Mr. Graves.” 

“Alright. Mind if I wait over here?”

“Oh, no, I don’t mind.”

Theseus sits and they both hear Percy’s muffled yelling from behind the door.

Credence can see him through the glass, sleeves rolled up, face red and absolutely barking into his black rotary phone. 

Leta comes in and sees Theseus.

“Hello, love.”

“Let me give this to Percival and I’ll be right with you, okay?”

“He’s on the phone.”

“ _Damn it_. He won’t be off until it’s already five.”

“I’ll give it to him, Leta.” 

“Oh, I should just wait. He’s in a bad mood already, and this might put him into an even worse one.” 

“I’ll be fine. You go have fun.”

“You _sure_?”

“Yes.”

She hands him a stack of mail and kisses his cheek.

He smiles nervously.

“Thanks, Cree.”

She and Theseus leave and Credence sits at his desk.

Percy opens the door to his office.

“Leta left?”

“Yes. She got the mail.”

Credence hands him the stack.

“Bill, the Clarion, bill…what the hell is this?”

He tosses the bills and the newspaper on Credence’s desk. 

He looks at the headline. 

Sep 29, 1956

YANKEES HIT RECORD BREAKING HOME RUN

The Yankees’ Mickey Mantle has beaten the Phillies’ Robin Roberts’ record for home runs in a season. Mantle hit his 52nd home run, breaking Roberts’ previous record of 46. 

“Jesus _fucking_ Christ.” 

Credence doesn’t know how baseball works.

“That dirty motherfucker is in for it when I get my hands on him,” Percy growls.

“What’s the matter?”

“Business,” he mumbles, angry.

“What kind of business?”

“This… this _candy ass_ I’ve been dealing with for a few years.”

“Who is it?”

“Credence! Just… _just_ stop asking questions!” 

“Oh… sorry.” 

Credence’s hand shakes.

He can’t stand getting yelled at. 

Percy stuffs the letter in his pocket and looks at the paper.

“Wish I was there to see that home run. I heard it on the radio last night.” 

“D-do you like baseball?” Credence asks, not looking at him. 

“I keep up. It’s the only sport that entertains me. Football is a bunch of dumbasses slamming into each other. Basketball’s not my thing either.” 

Percy sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

“You wanna come over?”

“I can’t… Newt is coming for dinner…”

“ _Shit_ , that reminds me. I have a meeting with Tina in an hour. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, Credence.”

“See you, Percy.”

Dinner with Newt is nice. 

“Well, we have this troublesome capybara, he just runs like hell from any of the staff. Poor thing’s got an issue with an eye. Cataracts.” 

“What’s a capybara?”

“It’s a massive South American rodent. I ought to find you book about South America, Credence, it’s a fascinating place.” 

“Have you been there?”

“Yes. Just before I came to work at the zoo I was in Patagonia, working with some penguins.”

“I thought penguins only lived in cold places.”

“It’s _bloody_ cold there. They’re rock penguins. Very interesting.” 

They say goodnight.

Queenie and Jacob watch some television. 

Credence sits on his bed and opens his book about Stonehenge. 

His heart is still beating from when Percy yelled at him. 

Tina paces in Percy’s study.

“Read it again,” she says.

He holds the letter.

_ Graves, _

_ The new boy is nice.  _

_ He lives with a baker. _

_ He works in your office. _

_ I do hope you reconsider meeting with me.  _

_ \- GG _

“But you don’t think-“

“Of _course_ it’s him. Of course it is. Who in the hell else could it be, Tina? Gellert Grindelwald. That has to be what it stands for.”

“He hasn’t blackmailed you before?” 

“Never. He’s never blackmailed me. But he always wants to meet with me. I hate this fucker, Tina. He’s a rich boy with no fucking respect for the working class.” 

“My sources haven’t said anything about him being in New York.”

“Yeah, well, he’s a slippery little _bastard_.”

“Maybe you should consider talking to him.”

”He’ll be lucky if I don’t break his goddamn nose.” 

Credence avoids Percy for two days. 

Like the plague.

Leta leaves.

It’s been such a quiet day at the office.

Percy came in early and hasn’t left his office. 

Percy steps out of his office at four-forty. 

Finally.

He rolls down his sleeves and buttons them.

He looks at Credence.

Credence looks down. 

“Credence, can I talk to you?” 

He says nothing.

Percy sits across from him. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell like that. Queenie told me not-“

“I’m not made of glass.”

“Oh.”

“I’m not a dog either. There’s no rules for me. I don’t want you to yell at me. But I understand you’re under a lot of pressure.”

“I am,” he says softly, standing up. 

“You’re a very angry man… aren’t you, _Percival_?”

“Yes.” 

Credence stands up. 

He’s a few inches taller than Percy. 

“I never get to be angry.”

“You’re allowed to be. If you wanna yell at me and punch me and call me a fuckface, do it.” 

“No. I don’t wanna hurt you.” 

“Do you wanna come over, Credence?”

Credence inhales.

“Yes.” 

Credence sits in the parlor.

“You want a seltzer?” 

“Um… do you have Coke?”

“Yeah, I do. One second.”

He sets a bright red can in front of Credence. 

Credence cracks it open and nervously takes a sip.

It’s sweet. It bubbles like seltzer. It hits the back of his throat and makes him feel like he’s going to Hell.

Percy sits next to him, grinning.

“You like that?”

Credence nods, a small smile on his face.

“I missed you…”

“It was only a few days, Percy.”

“I know.”

“Kiss me.” 

His lips ghost over Credence’s.

They kiss.

Credence is _feverish_. 

The way his lips move, the way his hands are gripping at his own legs.

He wants to tear into his own skin and bite.

Not bite Percy, he’d never bite Percy.

That’d be really crazy. That’s the one-way ticket to getting dumped.

He’d never bitten anyone.

Not as a child. He never hit his sisters. He never even roughhoused with them for play.

Chastity pulled Modesty’s hair all the time. 

Modesty bit. She was like a little animal.

She bit Chastity.

She bit Credence enough times to count on both hands. 

It was always his fault. 

Everything was always his fault.

“Hey, I think I hear a seam rip. Lighten up on your trousers, pal.” 

“Oh.”

He relaxes his hands.

“You wanna put those somewhere else?”

“No. No, um, I-I feel like… I-I need to grip something, I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“I did boxing in high school. Trust me, I’ve gotten the shit beat outta me more times than I can remember.” 

So have I, he thinks. 

Only I was a homosexual who did nothing and it wasn’t an event and it wasn’t a sport.

He puts his hands on Percy’s hips.

Percy kisses him, holding his face.

Credence makes a strangled noise, gripping Percy’s hips.

“Alright, ow.”

“Sorry…”

His hands shoot back into his own lap.

“ _Jesus_ , baby. You got an iron grip.” 

“Sorry.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. You okay?”

They lock eyes.

“Y-you make me feel… so much. So many things at once… I can’t tell if they’re good or bad. I feel like I’m on _fire_.” 

“Jesus.” 

“Were you ever religious?”

“Irish Catholic. I got all my sacraments. I was all lined up to marry a nice Catholic girl before I was drafted into the army. And thank _God_ for that, huh? _Jesus_ … me with a wife. I could never.” 

“You act really masculine around women. You flirt.” 

“It’s an act. The flirting is a bad habit, too. They think I’m a jerk. I had a million girlfriends in high school… Tina, Queenie, Seraphina.” 

“Have you ever had sex with a woman?”

“No, I’d get too scared. I’d pull that Catholic bullshit, say I was waiting for marriage. I’ve seen a fair share of women with no shirt on. A few in their underwear.” 

“What’s it like?”

“A naked woman?” 

Credence nods.

“Well… _I_ don’t like women. But I suppose I can understand why other men like them so much. Breasts are very interesting. I’m surprised nobody realized I’m gay. I was so suave until the poor girl took her bra off. Then I was like a deer in headlights. I’ve never been a real horndog, though. Not like you are.”

“I-“

“ _Kidding_.”

“No, I am.”

“Really?”

“I-I guess. I think about you all the time.”

“Oh?”

“I just don’t know anything about sex. Especially not with men.” 

“What do you know about sex?”

“Um… when a man and a woman… want to make a baby-“

“It’s not just for babies. It’s for whenever and _whatever_. People have sex in cars, in kitchens. People have sex in the day, at night. They do it for love, for sadness, for the hell of it. Whenever, _whatever_.”

“The man puts his penis in the woman’s vagina and they engage until the man… ejaculates… into the woman.” 

“Jesus.“

“Was that wrong?”

“No, just… fucking _clinical_. So… um… there’s a lot more to sex than just that.” 

“Like what?”

“Can I kiss you?“ 

“Yes.”

Percy kisses Credence.

His hand squeezes Credence’s thigh and slips between his legs.

“Is this okay?”

“ _Yes_ ,” he breathes.

Credence’s legs open subconsciously. 

Percy gently cups a hand around Credence’s…

_Dick_.

He gasps. 

“Is this okay, baby?”

“Yes, _yes_ …” 

He feels a chuckle rumble through Percy’s chest.

Percy starts to palm him through his trousers and kisses at his neck.

Credence groans.

“P-Percival…” 

“ _Fuck_.” 

Credence starts to unbuckle his belt. 

He unbuttons and unzips them, draping his arms around Percy’s neck.

Percy smirks, slipping his hand into Credence’s underwear.

He yelps suddenly.

“Is this okay?”

“Yes!”

He wraps a hand around Credence and starts to pump it gently.

Percy watches his eyes squeeze shut as his face contorts and he makes strange little noises. 

That laugh rumbles through him again.

“Fuck, you’re cute.”

Credence feels lips on his jaw.

“ _Jesus_ , baby, you really need to shave.”

“Percy, ngh-“ 

“I know, I know. I’ll take care of you, don’t worry.”

_ I’ll take care of you. _

“Y-you’ll take care of me?”

“Of course I will, now relax.”

Percy’s words echo in Credence’s head.

”Calm down. God, baby, you squirm like nobody’s business.”

Credence laughs a little.

Laughing.

Is he meant to be laughing?

“What’s up, funny guy?” 

They lock eyes again.

_“I love you_ ,” Credence whispers.

Percy softens.

“What?”

“I love you…”

Percy kisses him, his other hand on the back of his neck. 

They touch foreheads. 

“I love you too.” 

Credence climaxes.

Percy kisses his cheeks and lips and forehead, smiling against his skin. 

He catches his breath, looking at Percy. 

“You’ve never left the parlor, have you?” 

He shakes his head. 

“Zip your pants up. Let’s go upstairs.”

“Okay.”

Percy leads him up the stairs.

Credence is dizzy with euphoria and everything tingles and he’s just plain out of breath. 

He opens the door to a bedroom.

“You can wash up in the bathroom. I’ll bring you some clothes.”

Credence feels lips on his temple.

He looks at himself in the mirror.

He smiles, still dizzy. 

He suddenly remembers how sticky he feels.

He holds his towel around his waist. 

“There’s clothes out here for you, baby.” 

“Okay…”

“I’ll wait outside.” 

Credence puts the clothes on and Percy comes in as he’s looping his belt. 

“You okay?”

He nods.

“You wanna go home?”

“Not yet, please? Can we kiss more?” 

“Yes, of course.” 

“I love you, Percy.”

“I love you too, Credence.”


	13. Gellert

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unlucky number 13. Percival meets with Gellert Grindelwald.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warnings:  
> homophobia, description of violence

Percy rolls his sleeves up.

He’s in a private room above a bar.

“Mr. Graves. I’m glad you reconsidered my offer.” 

“Right. You know damn well I wouldn’t be here if I had a choice.” 

“Sit, please.”

He glares.

“I’ll stand. What do you want?”

Grindelwald smirks.

“Tsk tsk, _Percival_. So defensive.”

“I’m gonna ask you one more fucking time… what do you want?” 

“I’d like to do business with you and Ms. Piquery.”

“That’s not my decision to make. Seraphina makes her own decisions.”

“ _Seraphina_ ,” Grindelwald sneers. 

“You know I know about you and-“

“Albus?” 

Percy nods. 

“Nobody would believe you. Trust me, Albus tried to put himself in the spotlight, nobody could believe he and I were together. I had a hard time believing you’re a homosexual. Macho man, aren’t you?”

Percy glares.

Grindelwald grins. 

“Let me guess… you’d like to grab me by the neck slam my face into this table?” 

“Yeah.” 

“You’d like to walk over here and sock me in the face. Knock me to the ground. Kick me until I cough up blood.” 

“Yeah. I would.” 

“Wouldn’t that be fun. Of course, if you did that, our little secret wouldn’t be _our_ little secret anymore. So… which course of action would you like to take? Have my connections at the Clarion know you’re a homosexual with a boy fifteen years younger-“

“Twelve years-“

“-or do business with me?” 

It’s not about him, it’s about Credence. 

“I suppose we’re in business, _Gellert_.” 

“It’s a pleasure, Percival.”

He calls Seraphina.

“Every time I think you can’t get dumber, Percival-“

“I didn’t have a choice! He’s _blackmailing_ me!” 

“You get blackmailed all the time.” 

“He’s not Langdon Shaw, Sera. It’s _fucking_ Grindelwald. He’s never been convicted of anything.”

“Oh my God.”

He calls Goldstein.

“Hey, Perce, this is a bad time.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah… sorry… I uh… I basically have another Credence on my hands right now.”

“Another Credence?”

“You know Newt and lost people, we’re taking care of the situation. I’ll keep you posted. How did the meeting with Grindelwald go?”

“I’m in business.”

“Oh, _God_. Not really?”

“I had no choice.”

“Alright. I’ll see what I can do.” 

“Tina?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wig girl who’s the new credence?


	14. Sleepover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THIS CHAPTER IS NSFW  
> Credence spends the night at Percy’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warnings:  
> sexual situations, internalized homphobia, lesbophobia(?)

Percy paces in his study like a caged tiger.

He picks up the phone to call Credence.

It rings.

“Kowalski’s Pastries.”

“Credence.”

“Percy, hi.” 

“Hey. What’re you up to?”

“Nothing really, why?”

“Would you like to… spend the night?”

“Sure, I would.” 

“Alright. I’ll come around to get you in an hour.”

“Okay.”

“See you then.”

“I love you,” Credence says softly.

“I love you too.” 

Percy walks Credence around.

“This is the study. Goldstein and I meet here.”

“How often?”

“About once a month, unless we need more. With her working at the Clarion and all, have to keep my name out of the papers as much as I can.”

“Do you pay her for it?”

“I’m _rich_. I can pay whoever I want for whatever I want. But no, she won’t let me pay her. She just wants protection for Jacob’s place and her boyfriend.”

“Is it ever awkward? With Seraphina?”

“Oh, they’re on great terms. Seraphina cycles through girls like _crazy_. Lesbians take breakups like champs.”

“ _Lesbians_?”

“Homosexual women. We’re gay, she’s a lesbian.”

“Gay means happy.”

“Yes.”

“What’s lesbian mean?”

“Well there was this poet, Sappho. She‘s like… lesbian Jesus. She was Greek, and she was from an island called Lesbos. So… lesbians.” 

“Huh.”

“Yeah, so, if you ever hear Sera and I getting snappy, it’s probably because I called her a stupid lesbo.”

“Oh. That’s mean, isn’t it?”

“Well, you can be the one to tell her to stop calling me a goddamn flamer. C’mon.”

They sit on Percy’s bed, kissing.

“Can I do something?” Credence asks. 

“Yeah, sure.”

Credence straddles Percy’s lap and looks at him nervously.

“Is this okay?”

“Yeah, fuck. That’s great. Jesus, you’re tall.”

“Sorry.”

“You’re not really apologizing for being tall, are you?”

“Uh… sorry?”

“Jesus, baby. You’re too polite. You don’t apologize for things you can’t control. If someone makes you apologize for that, you say ‘fuck you’ and move on.”

“I’ve never said that to anyone.” 

“Say it to me. Right now. C’mon. I know you’re fucking around, say it.”

He looks him in the eyes.

“Fuck you, Percival.”

“There you go!” 

Percy kisses him.

“You know… you’re pretty fucking _sexy_ when you’re aggressive, baby.” 

“But I’m not like that, Percy, I’m a square.”

“You’re _not_ a square. You’re a nice guy.”

“Do you like that?”

“I like Credence. Don’t start changing because you think it’ll get my rocks off.”

Percy pulls Credence closer by the hips.

Credence winces.

“You okay?”

“I’m not used to, um… to getting hard.” 

“You never jacked off before?” 

“I never what?”

“Masturbated.”

“Oh… one time.”

“Once? Don’t get me wrong, baby, it takes two to tango, but sometimes dancing on your own is kinda fun.” 

“I was um, before we were together, I was thinking about you…”

“Oh? Did you-“

“I was just thinking about it.” 

“Just laying on your bed thinking about it? That’s very… Credence of you. What about the one time?”

“Oh… I didn’t mean to… I uh… I was laying down and I sorta… my um…”

“Your _cock_?”

Credence flinches at the word.

“Yeah… it rubbed against the mattress.”

“So the first time you came, you were fucking your bed?

“You can make anything sound more _disgusting_ than it already is.”

“It’s not disgusting. It’s natural. And it’s good for you.” 

“How is it good for you to touch yourself?”

“How good did you feel when I gave you a handjob?”

“I felt great-“

“Doesn’t matter if you’re doing it or I’m doing it. It feels good.” 

Credence kisses him.

He feels Percy hold him closer.

He whines.

“Percy…”

“Man, I get you all night…”

“What should I do?”

“Can you uh… can you move your hips?”

Credence starts to rock his hips down onto Percy, who groans. 

“I want to do something. For you.” 

“You’re doing something,” he murmurs against Credence’s neck.

“Can I unbutton your shirt?”

“Yeah, sure.” 

Credence’s fingers, skinny and long, shakily undo his buttons.

“I didn’t know you were…”

“Hairy?”

“Yeah.”

“Why do you think my boys liked me so much, huh?” 

“Hm?”

“I’m older. Kinda hairy. Good replacement for a young man’s shitty father.” 

“Well, I never had a dad.” 

“A few of my boys didn’t have dads, either.”

“I don’t want you to be my dad, Percy. You’re my boyfriend.”

“I know I am, baby.”

Credence whines.

“You can take your pants off, babe.”

Credence takes off his belt with his eyes closed and drops it on the floor.

He undoes his trousers. 

“Fuck, you’re hard.”

He unbuttons his shirt feverishly and looks at Percy. 

“T-touch me…”

”Lay down.”

”Why?”

”I’m gonna suck your cock, that’s why.” 

Credence lays on the bed in his pajamas.

“I love you,” he sighs. 

“I love you too.”

Percy lays down and Credence snuggles up to him. 

“Hey, baby.”

Credence smiles.

He feels so happy he could burst.

He doesn’t want to go home in the morning.

For now he feels Percy’s arm around him and he feels safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lesbian seraphina supremacy


	15. The New Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter Nagini.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warnings: lesophobia, homophobia, mentions of abuse, smoking(?)

Tina calls Percy.

“Graves.” 

“Goldstein.”

“Hey… I have an update.”

“What about?”

“Remember the ‘new Credence’ I told you about?”

“Shoot.”

“Her name is Nagini. She ran away from home. Which is _France_. Her English is fluent. Apparently she’s been working in the circus.”

“Okay.”

“She’s staying with me until Queenie can find her a place.”

“Leave her with me.”

“Sorry?”

“Leave her with me. I’ve got rooms to spare.”

“Are you sure?”

“Sure, why not? I think I’ll start collecting fucked up runaways.” 

Tina brings Nagini over.

Newt is with them.

“Dr. Scamander,” Percy says.

They shake hands. 

“So formal, please, call me Newt, Percival.” 

“Good to see you, Newt.”

“Good to see you as well.”

He looks to Nagini. 

She’s short. Korean girl. Shaking like a leaf. 

“Gonna introduce me, Goldstein?”

“Nagini, this is my friend Percival Graves. You’re gonna stay with him.”

“Hello, Mr. Graves.”

“You can call me Percy, alright?” 

“Alright.” 

“He should really consider getting a cat,” Newt says to Tina on the subway.

“He doesn’t need a _cat_. He’ll have his hands full with her and Credence.” 

Percy makes dinner.

“So, Miss Nagini… you need a job?”

“Yes.”

“Great. Because my assistant is getting a little overwhelmed with his paperwork. I think I need to upgrade to two assistants.” 

“What do you do?”

“I run a code-locked safe company.”

“Boring.”

“ _Very_.”

“I’ll take it, I guess. I don’t have anything else to do.” 

“You’ll like my assistant. He’s a riot.” 

Nagini comes into the office with Percy.

Leta sits at her desk, smoking.

“You’re here early,” she says.

“Leta, this is Nagini. She’s gonna be another assistant for me.”

“Nice to meet you, Nagini.” 

“And this is Miss Leta Lestrange, my receptionist from Heaven.”

He walks her over to a table.

“I’ll get you a proper desk soon, I promise.”

“I can work with this. Can I have an ashtray?”

“Here.”

He takes the one from Credence’s desk and puts it before her.

“What about your assistant?”

“Oh, he doesn’t smoke.”

“He’s the _only_ one in the office who doesn’t smoke?”

“Yeah, he just started drinking cola the other day. He comes from a uh… _weird_ family.”

Credence comes in.

He waves awkwardly to Leta.

He walks to his desk. 

He sees another girl at a table.

“Oh. Hello. I’m Credence.”

She ashes her cigarette.

“Nagini.”

Graves pops his head out. 

“Hey, Credence.” 

“Hi, Percy.”

“This is Nagini. She’s basically… your assistant. So, whatever stack I put over there for you, will you half it and give it to her?”

“Yes.” 

“Great.”

He looks at his watch.

“Oh, _fuck_ me!” 

Credence blushes. 

He looks to Leta.

“Leta, sweetheart? If Henry Shaw calls, will you put him through to me?”

“Yes.”

“You’re a doll!”

He closes his door.

Credence sits, looking at Nagini. 

She glares back at him.

He quickly looks to his papers.

She walks over.

“Do you have another marker? Mine’s out of juice.”

“Yeah, sure. One second.” 

He opens his drawer and takes a marker out.

He hands it to her without looking at her.

“What happened to your hands?”

“Accident.”

“Huh.”

She takes the pen.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Theseus drops by to get Leta.

He introduces himself to Nagini.

He waves to Credence.

Credence packs up his things at four fifty.

Graves comes out, rolling down and buttoning his sleeves. 

“Credence.”

He walks over and lowers his voice.

“Do you know how to shave?”

“No.”

“Ask Jacob to show you. You‘re getting scruffy, _pal_.”

“I will, Percy.” 

He turns to Nagini. 

“Okay, sweetheart. You ready?”

_Sweetheart_. 

Credence’s jaw tenses.

Appearances. 

“Yes.”

“She’s living with me. She needs a place to stay. She ran away like you.”

“Oh.”

“See you tomorrow, Credence.”

“Bye.”

Percy paces in his parlor.

Nagini knocks on the doorframe.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Can we uh… smoke in here?”

“I don’t care. This was my dad’s place. I disrespect it as often as I can.”

“Why?”

“He hated me. I didn’t really give a fuck about him either.”

Percy lights a cigarette for himself.

He looks at her.

“So, what’s your deal?”

He lights her cigarette.

“What’s my deal?”

“Why’d you run away?”

She sighs.

“If I tell you, you’ll wanna get rid of me.” 

“Try me.” 

“I’m… my dad caught me in my room with another girl.”

“Having sex?”

“Just kissing.”

“He kicked you out?”

“I went to the circus. Everyone there was an asshole. So I got on a plane. And now I’m here.” 

“You like girls?”

“You hate me?”

He smiles.

He shakes his head. 

“ _I’m_ a homosexual, Nagini.” 

“Oh.”

“You’re gonna like our circle here. Lots of _our_ people.” 

He ashes his cigarette.

“I need new clothes,” she says softly.

“I can tell you hate that dress. You want pants?”

“I’m allowed to wear pants?”

“You can wear a leotard and a tutu for all I care. As long as you’re comfortable.” 

“I shouldn’t.”

“I never get to spoil anyone, I have all this _fucking_ money. C’mon. Looks good in the papers for me to go out with a young girl.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i died lol


	16. Clean-Shaven Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob teaches Credence to shave. Credence thinks about all the couples he knows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warnings: mentions of self-harm, mentions of leta lestrange’s trauma, mentions of drowning

“Jacob?”

“Hey, Cree.”

“Would you um… would you teach me how to shave?” 

“You don’t know?”

“Um… no. Ma wasn’t married… nobody ever taught me. Queenie usually does it for me, but I’d been letting it grow…”

“Newt didn’t show you?”

“Newt said that I was uh… I ‘wasn’t in a place to be using sharp objects unsupervised’.”

“Sure, I’ll teach you.”

He feels his face.

Only one small nick on his jaw. 

_Smooth_.

He does what Seraphina told him to do.

He sighs.

He closes the bathroom door. 

He looks in the mirror.

He thinks to himself.

“Try to compliment yourself, Credence.”

I have a nice jaw.

I look better clean-shaven. 

I got some sunshine. 

I have freckles.

Wait, _what_?

That shocks him.

Newt has freckles.

Leta has them.

She the most beautiful face. 

She’s probably the prettiest woman he knows.

She’s a little cold, but Percy says she’s been through a lot.

She lost her baby brother. He drowned. 

Theseus seems nice.

Like they’re both people who need a gentle touch, and they can give that to each other.

Percy’s had a lot of other guys.

He wonders if they’ve been gentle.

He says nothing was ever serious. 

Nothing was ever romantic.

Leta and Theseus are gentle.

Tina and Newt are stiff.

Jacob and Queenie are funny. 

Maybe Credence and Percy are just both new to this. 

They don’t have a thing.

It’s enough for Credence just to know someone loves him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i watched the directors cut of crimes of grindewald and fuck bro this is a leta lestrange/theseus scamander stan account now i love them


	17. Family Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit about how Percival Graves became the man he is today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warnings: homophobia, f slur, the word “fairy” used in a homophobic sense, mentions of murder/death

Percival Graves was born to Golda and Francis Graves on April 17th of 1918.

He was their only child.

Pride and joy.

Golda died in 1928.

In 1929, Percival decided he was going to marry Seraphina Piquery when he grew up. He would be an army man, like his father.

He was a boxing champion in high school. 

His first kiss was Seraphina Piquery.

They dated for four months.

Mr. Graves was a distant father, never at home. 

So they made out in his room.

Often. 

She pulled away from a kiss.

“I don’t like you,” Seraphina wheezed.

“Why? Because I stuck my tongue in your mouth?” 

“Percy, I think I like girls…” 

“Oh thank Jesus, I don’t like girls,” he blurted. 

“You don’t?”

He took her hand and put it on his crotch.

“Feel that?”

“No.”

“Exactly.”

They dated for another month and then faked a _very_ dramatic breakup. Including dramatic glances across classrooms and Seraphina crying at the lunch break. 

He took Queenie Goldstein on a very uneventful date.

They did not make out.

He took Tina Goldstein to prom in 1936.

They made out in his room. 

He didn’t get hard.

She slipped her hand into his pants.

“Tina-“

“ _Oh_ … do you… I’m sorry-“

“Tina, I- it’s not you. It’s… I… I don’t like girls.” 

“Then why did you take me out? Why have we been kissing for fifteen minutes?! You touched my- my chest!”

“Because if I’m a homosexual my dad’ll _kill_ me… I have to have lipstick on my collar so he won’t think about it. I’m sorry, Tina. I’m sorry. I know you wanted this to be special.”

She sighed. 

He zipped her dress.

“So that’s why you’re such a… casanova?”

He nodded.

“Nobody suspects a thing. You really can’t tell, Tina.”

“I won’t. Does anyone else know?”

“Seraphina Piquery.”

He took her hand.

“I’m gonna take care of you. And Queenie.”

“I don’t want charity, Percy-“

“It’s not charity. You’re my friend.”

“I wanna go to college. For journalism.”

He kissed her cheek.

“I’ll pay for it.”

They hugged.

He went to college, majored in business. 

Then he went to Europe and fought.

Came back.

Saw Tina.

Got sent out to Korea.

Got a letter from Mr. Graves saying he was sick. 

He discharged. 

He drank.

A lot. 

And he started to work with the mob.

Seraphina got him in.

He wasn’t always the boss. 

He painted houses.

He dropped a few bodies in the Hudson. 

And he started to fuck men.

Underground spots and back alleys and money passed from hand to hand. 

Handsome young men and older men and every kind of man in between.

Mr. Graves heard the rumors his only son was a homosexual. 

“They’re _rumors_!” 

“Rumors always start from truth.”

He glared.

“You believe that bullshit? You believe I’m a fucking fairy? _Huh?_ Your son?”

“No son of mine is a faggot.” 

“I hope they’re outta morphine when you _fucking_ die.” 

“Percival-“

“Go to Hell, old man!” 

He stopped speaking to Percy.

Then he stopped speaking in 1953.

The Korean War was over and Francis Graves was dead. 

Percy was Mr. Graves now. 

He went steady with Seraphina.

He barked at her, drunk out of his mind.

She’d pat his back and comfort him.

He broke vases and windows.

Fuck this house.

_Fuck his father_. 

Then his boys.

The revolving door, Seraphina called it. 

It was more like an automatic garage. 

The college guys slipping in through the back door so he could get his dick wet and be out of five bucks. 

And now Credence. 

This guy who was so genuine.

This guy who laughed when Percy was jacking him off. 

This guy who, when he slept over, woke Percy up with the softest kiss he’s ever gotten. 

This guy who just loved him.

For real. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i make percy backstory mySELF


	18. Circus Freak and Jesus Freak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nagini and Credence bond. Nagini shares her love of rock music.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warnings: homophobia and lesbophobia (in a playful context)

Credence has a lunch break.

He rarely takes it. 

He just hates going down in that stupid scary elevator more than he has to.

He takes it today.

“Hey, Credence!”

He flinches at the yelling and looks back.

Nagini.

Nagini in her tan cigarette pants and the nice white blouse.

It might as well be a men’s shirt.

She’s flat in the chest and boyish, but little flares of femininity are scattered over her. 

The pack of cigarettes in her breast pocket, nearly peeking out. 

Credence keeps pens in his pocket. 

Her hair is all sorts of pinned up and hanging down.

Ma always had Modesty and Chastity with braids or short manageable hairstyles. 

Leta has such beautiful curls that are perfectly framed around her face. 

Nagini has…

_Personality_ in her hair. 

She looks like a tornado hit her, to be honest.

She even has a cigarette tucked behind her ear.

Credence never understood that.

Percy does it.

“Oh. Hello.”

“Do you want to have lunch together?”

“Oh… um… sure. That sounds like… fun.”

She grins.

He sits at a park bench with her.

“I uh… Queenie made me a sandwich, but I usually only eat half. Do you want the other half?” 

Nagini’s eating a hot dog.

“Sure,” she chirps.

He holds it out to her.

Her sleeve rides up as she takes it. 

He catches a glimpse of the head of a huge tattoo of a snake.

“Holy moly,” he murmurs.

She looks at it.

“Oh yeah. Do you have tattoos?”

Credence shakes his head.

“It’s stupid having them when you’re East Asian. People think you’re Yakuza.”

“Yakuza?”

“You know, the Japanese gangsters. Even though I’m Korean.”

“Oh.” 

He says it again, letting it sit in his mouth.

“ _Yakuza_ …” 

“Yep.”

“I only know about the Irish mob.”

“I didn’t know there was an Irish mob.”

“I didn’t know there was a Japanese one.” 

He drinks from a thermos.

“What’s in there? Coffee?”

“Oh, no, I’m-“

I’m not allowed to drink coffee.

But he is.

“I don’t drink coffee.”

“Oh yeah. Percy said you came from a weird family.”

“Dr. Scamander would call it a cult.” 

“You know Newt?”

He nods.

“We lived together. For a little. I live with Tina’s sister.”

“Oh, Queenie. She’s… _fun_.”

“She always-“

“Knows what you’re thinking,” they say at the same time.   


Credence gives her a small smile. 

She lights a cigarette.  


”What did you 

“So, what’s your… _thing_ with Graves?”

He nearly chokes on his water.

“My thing?” 

“You’re uh… y’know. Buddy buddy.” 

“ _Buddy buddy_?”

“Uh… having sex?”

Credence swallows.

“Yes.” 

“I don’t mind. I’m a lesbian.”

“Oh. Good for you.” 

“Sorry I talk so much.”

“I don’t mind. I like people who talk a lot.” 

“Do you like music?”

“Oh yes. I like jazz music.”

“Have you listened to any rock music?”

“No, I don’t think so. I only really um… listen to music when I’m at Percy’s.”

“Come over after work today! He misses you like crazy, I can tell.” 

“Okay.”

Credence drinks a cola in the parlor while Percy smokes a cigarette and pours himself a drink from a very expensive looking bottle.

“That looks fancy.”

“We’re housewarming for Nagini. It’s special. Oh, Sera’s coming by.” 

“Oh, great.”

Credence doesn’t really care.

It’s not like he hates Seraphina.

He quite likes her, actually. 

She just knows way too much about him.

He cried at their last session.

He cried a lot. 

“Hello, princess.” 

Seraphina walks in while Percy hangs up her coat.

She smiles.

“Hi, Credence.”

They hug. 

Percy walks in.

They hear Nagini thundering down the hallway.

“Is that the firecracker?” 

Percy nods, grinning.

She comes down holding a record.

“I told you I had it!”

She freezes, looking at Seraphina.

“Jeez, you’re pretty.” 

Seraphina smiles.

“Thank you.” 

“What’s this?”

“Rock ‘n roll!” 

Credence looks at the writing.

Chuck Berry - Maybellene (1955)

Percy puts it on the record player.

He starts it up.

Credence hears the most shocking noise.

“What is that?”

“Guitar!” 

_ Maybellene, why can’tcha be true? _

_ Oh Maybellene, why can’tcha be true? _

_ You done started doin’ the things you used to do. _

Seraphina laughs.

“This is just like-“

“When you and I would go to a sock hop and be the two college-age codgers cutting a rug?”

She nods, taking his hands.

Credence watches them dance, watches Nagini dancing by herself.

_ Maybellene, why can’tcha be true? _

They’re all so happy.

So happy and having a good time.

“C’mon, Credence!”

Nagini pulls him up.

“Oh, I don’t know how to-“

She starts to dance with him, holding his hands. 

Percy smirks, taking Credence’s hand and switching partners.

Seraphina and Nagini dance, holding hands.

Nagini takes extra care with Sera’s nails. 

He’s never heard Percy laugh this much. 

It’s such a real smile.

Percy sits in the parlor with Seraphina.

Nagini and Credence went upstairs so she could show him more music.

The muffled rumble of rock music can be heard from downstairs.

“You’re not such a sly fox, you know.”

“Oh? And what _foxy_ antics am I up to?”

“The butch.”

“Nagini?”

“You bought her men’s clothing.”

“I did _no_ such thing,” he lies, smirking. 

“The slacks-“ 

“Those are _capris_.” 

She narrows her eyes.

“Another glass of wine?”

She rolls her eyes.

“You can be such a candy-ass _flamer_ ,” she teases.

“And how is your _carpet-only_ diet, Miss Piquery?” Percy fires back.

“You know, if any of those straight and narrow people heard us-“

“Oh, they’d think I absolutely hate those damn lesbians.”

“And I’m not keen on homos either.” 

He laughs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello i started a tumblr for this ao3 account (texastoughblr)  
> it has updates and you can send any asks   
> i also uploaded a canon-compliant leta and theseus fic recently  
> my updates will be pretty spotty at best bc i’ve got school and other busy things


End file.
